The Tragedy Of Being a Woman In A Mosquito's World

Here's the tragic thing about mosquitoes. The male ones are vegetarians, that is, not interested in biting humans. They feed on nectar from flowers, pretty much like bees, and pass by pretty much unnoticed by us. 

  But when it comes to their wives - it's a different ball game altogether. Coz it's the females who go buzzing about our ears and make our nights hell for us. Now before that leads to a whole misogynistic debate, let me clarify that the reason the females bite you is not because of some vampire-like streak that makes them thirst for human blood.

Nope. The reason they suck our blood is because they need the proteins in it to develop fertile eggs. So every pesky little bloodsucker that you swat between your hands is actually a hopeful mother-to-be. Twisted, right? Almost makes you reach out and switch off that All-Out you have been using.

Of course, there is the practical side to be considered. Let's face it. Mosquito bites suck. They make you itch, they can infect you with a host of sometimes-deadly diseases. So no point being a martyr and offering yourself as a fertility donor to this specie.

But then, if we shift the perspective a bit and looks at life from a lady mosquito's POV, things do look quite depressing. Think about it. You are this caring, dutiful daughter since birth, picturing the perfect wedding, the perfect mate, the perfect family ... Everything goes along fine. You meet the right guy. Your friends like him. The honeymoon was great. Life's a dream.

But then comes the reality check. It's time for you to start a family. The only catch is that you now need to risk your life and limb to go fulfill Mother Nature's sadistic rules before you can become a mother. So while your husband goes off merrily to play amidst flowers with his friends, the onus falls on you and your fellow prospective mothers now to go into the dark zone of those giant haemoglobin carriers, battling toxic vapors, repellent creams, and of course, the swat! One moment you are harboring dreams of dressing your kids off to school, the next you are nothing but a crumpled mass of limbs and torso.

 Your friends look on in horror. Some cry. Some scream. But they have no choice. So they wipe their tears, murmur a silent prayer, and continue in their march towards the war zone, all in the hope of surviving long enough to see their first-born smile at them.

It's like a SAW movie featuring pregnant women as victims. It's that sick.

Everything happens for a reason, I guess. Maybe if one were to really look for a logic in this madness, one could argue that this was Nature's way of ensuring their population control. Can you imagine a world run over by swarms of mosquitoes blocking the sun?

Still, at the end of the day, it must make for a dreary bar conversation between the perpetual, vegetarian widowers.

image courtesy: www.wordexplorations.info

  "I don't know, man. I thought she was the one. I wanted us to have kids, travel, grow old together ... Next thing I know, she lingers too long on this guy's forearm and SWAT! It's all over ..."
  "Cheer up, buddy. Plenty of mosquitoes out there. In fact, if you want, I could hook you up with this chick I know -"
  "I don't think so yaar -"
  "She's a fast flyer."
  "You have her number?"